


it's only thin ice, baby

by birthdayblur



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Olympics, Curling, Fluff, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, Winter Olympics, curling player!seongwu, figure skater!minhyun, minhyun just really wants that pizza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 07:10:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15791544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birthdayblur/pseuds/birthdayblur
Summary: This is the first time Seongwu’s ever had a fan who’s even more famous than he is.or,minhyun surprises everyone by showing up to every team korea curling match holding a seongwu slogan and cheering him on enthusiastically





	it's only thin ice, baby

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is a winter olympics au, where seongwu, jaehwan and daniel are the stars of the curling team, but sport itself is pretty much glossed over. 
> 
> if you don’t know what curling is, that’s okay! all you need to know is that it’s a team sport that is played in an indoor ice arena, like figure skating, except the playing fields are just a bit different from each other. 
> 
> the dates of actual pyeongchang olympic events are pretty much consistent, but the other competitions i took a little bit of liberty with, just to match the story. 
> 
> enjoy <3

 

The video that put Ong Seongwu on everyone’s radar goes a little something like this.

 

It starts with a gaudy news logo, and some triumphant-sounding music.

“I’m Park Woojin, for _Curling Worldwide_ , here at the 2017 Pacific-Asia Championships, with Ong Seongwu, captain for Team Korea. Seongwu-ssi, great win tonight. How was it out there?”

“Kind of cold-”

“Awesome. I heard that you’re an acting major, could you give us your best impression of a celebrity?”

Seongwu laughs. “I’d love to, Woojin, but I’ve just come out of a two hour game, so give me something to work with. Who do you have in mind?”

Woojin taps his chin, looking off to somewhere in the distance. “Hwang Minhyun just won the national title for figure skating. How about him?”

Seongwu slowly nods, and the camera zooms out, managing to capture the rest of the men’s curling team, consisting of Daniel, Jaehwan, Sungwoon and Jisung, visibly cringing on the side.

“Okay, here’s a pre-apology to all of Minhyun-ssi’s fans out there,” Seongwu turns to the camera with puppy-dog eyes and a friendly smile. “I’m so sorry.”

All of a sudden, the good-will disappears from Seongwu’s face, leaving an expression that’s blank, and cold. Woojin appears pleasantly surprised, because the impression is pretty spot on, until Seongwu attempts a pirouette, and ends up lying face-first on the ground instead.

“Oh shit-”

The logo for _Curling Worldwide_ flashes again, and the video ends with the same music from the beginning.

 

Jaehwan rams into Sungwoon’s back from laughing too hard. The earphone he was sharing with Daniel tears away, his phone shaking and threatening to drop from his hand, the sound echoing down the corridor of the arena’s back area.

“Can you guys stop watching that? We’re about to go out onto the ice.” The end of Seongwu’s curling broom flails about as he tries to whack his two teammates away from each other before they walk out into the open, where cameras will be broadcasting their every move live.

“But it helps me calm my nerves, Captain. Don’t you want your team in the best state possible before the first game of the Olympics?” Jaehwan mock pleads, batting his eyelashes while simultaneously pressing the replay button on the video.

Seongwu attempts to unsuccessfully grab the phone out of Jaehwan’s hand, knowing that the action is really just futile, because not only Jaehwan, but the whole of South Korea, has probably repeatedly watched the viral clip from last year more times than he can count on his fingers.

It had been an act of clumsiness that would’ve been overlooked if it were by anyone but him, however the unfortunate combination of both being really good at his sport, and his extremely videogenic looks, caused it to blow up so much, that even last night in the dining hall of the Olympic Village, foreign athletes clambered to get a selfie.

Seongwu decides to resign to his fate for the upteenth time, and walk forward to the spot behind the traditionally-costumed man holding a KOR placard, in preparation for Team Korea’s entrance into the fervour, and hubbub, of the Gangneung Curling Centre. It’s an experience that’s completely new to him, this being the first time he’s participated in a Winter Olympics, but for a sport that’s underpinned his life ever since high school, he’s excited all the same.

“Nervous?” Sungwoon asks, giving him a quick shoulder rub. “Don’t worry, the worst thing that you can do out there is trip over your curling broom, but everyone has already seen you fall flat on your face, so it’ll be like you’re in your element or something.”

“Gee, I love having supportive teammates,” Seongwu scowls sarcastically, as the sound of the bagpipes start, harking the Scottish roots of curling, and the entrance of all the countries having their first match of the week this morning. He’s only ever heard the iconic bellowing, wailing sound from TV, so as the line of people shrink, and they near the entry into the main body of the arena, his heart starts pounding wildly in his chest.

As he steps out into the open, the first thing he notices is that the bleachers are completely full of people waving South Korean flags. It’s memorising to say the least, the fluttering of white flags only for him and his team. Seongwu scans the crowd while walking to the chairs on the sideline, trying his best to make eye contact with every one of them to show his appreciation for their support, when he spots a colour more vibrant than the rest.

Eyes focusing, he realises that what’s being waved is not a flag, but a slogan. With his name on it.

His heart now full, he looks up to meet eyes with his sole supporter, and the other’s shifts into crescents, making Seongwu subconsciously smile too.

The fan is surprisingly cute, with hair dyed a light blonde, the attractive angles of his face sharp enough to be seen from a distance, his features proportionate enough that they even seem oddly familiar.

His eyes can’t leave the man and how ethereal he looks, standing taller than the rest of the crowd, waving a slogan only for him. So it’s probably the extended fanservice that causes the man to open his mouth, and cheer Seongwu’s name so loud, that the bass of his voice cuts through the noise in the arena, and time seems to stop when silence falls, and everyone directs their attention to the source.

It takes a few seconds for everyone to comprehend what they’re seeing, but from the looks Jaehwan is throwing in Seongwu’s direction, recognition comes over him as soon as the first whisperings begin in the crowd.

“Hwang Minhyun. That’s Hwang Minhyun. The figure skater. Hwang Minhyun.”

The murmurs are drowned out once again, by the words which Seongwu is deciding are sounding way too nice rolling off the other’s tongue.

“Ong Seongwu! Fighting!”

 

 

It’s curiosity, Seongwu swears, which is making him hide behind a row of seats in the bleachers.

The ice rink in the training centre is echoing with the increasing crescendo of Beethoven’s _Moonlight Sonata_. Natural light fills the room, filtering from large floor-to-ceiling windows on the far side, fluorescent white light unneeded for the purpose of the ice rink today. Seongwu pulls his puffy jacket even tighter around him, staring at a spot on the concrete floor, and counts to three, before quickly glancing over the top of the seat.

The icy blonde head of hair moves around the frozen surface at impossible speeds. Forgetting his previous promise made to himself, to look for only a second before ducking down again, Seongwu stares in awe at the mastery over the ice that Minhyun has which is so different from his.

At Team Korea’s second curling match of the week last night, Minhyun had once again shown up with a gentle smile, a Seongwu slogan in hand, and Seongwu’s name on his lips. After the initial shock wore off, he could only find himself wondering why the expression on the famed figure skater’s face was so different from what he had seen before.

It had been like a completely different man was in the audience, cheering for him with the same face, the same body, and the same voice, just without the ice prince himself. So it’s curiosity which is fueling his escapade today, and with his head still poking up from within the bleachers, he realises that while on the ice, the object of his attention is still appearing completely as he should.

Minhyun is balancing on the blade of one boot without moving a facial muscle, twisting and turning for impossible lengths of time, and effortlessly spinning in the air like being suspended by a piece of string. Seongwu doesn’t know why, but there’s something akin to magic in the way he leaps, and then lands as if he’s light as a feather. Throughout the whole routine, even though no one is meant to be watching, there’s a retainment of the steely gaze, like he doesn’t have a care for anything, or anyone, in the world.

It’s enchanting, and Seongwu’s supposed to go back into hiding, but he’s losing track of time by watching this figure skater. It’s no wonder Minhyun’s called the best in Team Korea, plus he’s looking pretty nice in a black, skin-tight training outfit, and wow-

“Hot men on ice, in pants that show ass,” Jaehwan solemnly states, scaring the bejesus out of Seongwu by whispering in his ear. “Hyung, I always knew you had a thing for butts.”

“What the fuck, Jaehwan?” Seongwu mutters, pushing his teammate’s head down, because even though he’s evidently not in the most subtle position, he’d rather not be caught by anyone else. “How long have you been here?”

“For a while,” Daniel attempts to whisper in his other ear, though sounding a lot more louder than he should, and making Seongwu want to elbow him, hard. “We kind of guessed that you would abandon us on our free day, and this is where you’d be.”

Seongwu glances at Daniel, and at Jaehwan, and then groans, because he knows what kind of look they’re giving him right now. It’s the _ha-ha we caught you_ look, which is usually reserved for when Seongwu’s meant to be watching curling videos, but instead is watching something entirely different.

“Where did you guys even come from?” Seongwu hurriedly questions. “I thought that you two were going to hang out with the ice hockey players today.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow. “Look, that’s what we told you, but you also told _us_ that you couldn’t come along, because you’d be stuck at the training centre watching replays of yesterday’s matches, trying to follow up with their strategies.”

“But I was suspicious,” Jaehwan continues. “And I was right, because you’re not following up their strategies, you’re just following your _dick_.”

Seongwu’s jaw drops open. “The fuck, _no_ dick is being followed. Look, I’m just seeing what Team Korea’s other athletes have to offer, without interrupting their valuable practice time. It’s called patriotism, and Olympic spirit, and-”

“HWANG MINHYUN! FIGHTING!” Daniel yells, jumping up and making Seongwu want to _really_ elbow him right now, very hard, and on his kneecaps, so he’d topple to the ground. Daniel grins down at him. “Hyung, I’ve got the Olympic spirit part down, right?”

Beethoven’s _Moonlight Sonata_ ends with a loud crash of recorded piano keys. Three heads pop up over the tops of the seats, and Seongwu’s heart stops, because Minhyun’s now skating to the sidelines, in the direction of where they’re crouching in the bleachers.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“Ong Seongwu?” Minhyun calls out, stopping himself gracefully against the barrier of the ice rink, and giving him a small, inquisitive smile that renders him with an inability to look anywhere else. “Were you three practicing for your match tomorrow?”

Seongwu forces a grin, one with teeth showing. “Yeah, we were just passing by, and we’ll probably head off now, and-”

“Hi! I’m Daniel. This is Jaehwan. And we _all_ know that you already know Seongwu.”

Minhyun’s ears turn red. “Ah. You recognised me in the crowd?”

Seongwu glances at Jaehwan, unsure what to do. He’s had celebrity fans before, like those who name him as his ideal type and such, but he’s never had a fan as famous as Minhyun. Jaehwan returns the look with a nod of his head, and mouths an _I’ve got this._

“Minhyun-ssi, you have your short program tomorrow right?” Jaehwan asks. “It’s a shame that it clashes with our match, because Seongwu actually wanted to go and watch your routine.”

“Oh. Me?” Minhyun looks surprised, and Seongwu can’t help but notice the way his eyebrows rise, and how his lips pucker into an _o_. “Then you and me both, Seongwu-ssi, because it sucks that I’m missing your match. Plus I’ve always wanted to see Norway’s crazy pants in real life.”

“Same!” Seongwu exclaims. “I’m excited, I’ve always wanted to-”

“-try on their pants, I remember from that interview you did last month.” Minhyun’s face suddenly falls, and Seongwu can barely make out his muttering, “Crap, that was really creepy, Minhyun.”

Seongwu suppresses a giggle. Minhyun is looking less and less like the regal prince on ice that the media’s been trying to push, and more and more… warm? Looking down from his position on the bleachers, at the man who’s awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, and desperately trying to not make eye contact, it feels like there’s some sort of barrier in his mind that is slowly melting away.

He looks at Jaehwan for help.

“You could show Seongwu your routine right now so he doesn’t miss a thing,” Jaehwan suggests. “And in return, you could watch the replay of the Norway match with Seongwu after both our events end tomorrow, since he always does anyway to see what we can pick up from the other team.”

Minhyun’s face lights up, and Seongwoo feels so hypnotised by the other’s smile, that he can’t bring himself to suggest otherwise.

“Seriously? That sounds great!” Minhyun looks nervously at Seongwu. “Is that alright?”

“Yeah! It’s alright,” Seongwu says easily.

 

 

Olympics week passes by like a blur. Minhyun manages to win silver after the scores from both his short and free figure skating programs are tallied up, and for the following days after, he shows up to every six of the remaining Team Korea men’s curling matches without fail.

It’s a mixture of wins and losses for the round robin matches, but in the end they manage to make it to the playoffs. Then they beat Canada in a surprising victory, to guarantee at least a silver, and the chance to win gold.

Minhyun also doesn’t miss showing up to the curling team’s shared apartment after every match to watch the reruns with Seongwu. It’s pure coincidence that his teammates always somehow have an appointment to hang out with the ice hockey players at the exact same time though, but he doesn’t mind.

“Seongwu, how long did you microwave the pizza for?”

Seongwu looks to the kitchen, from where he’s fiddling with the remote in the living room. “I didn’t?”

Minhyun starts coughing, and makes the most attractive retching noise over the sink. When he’s done, he turns back to Seongwu, face still scrunched up, and makes an _x_ sign with his hands. “Please pretend you didn’t hear that.”

“Hear what?” Seongwu grins. Only a few minutes pass, of Seongwu switching through the channels, when Minhyun comes over with the reheated pizza, and Seongwu makes an identically attractive retching noise to his face. “Did you mean this?”

“Shut up,” Minhyun deadpans, with the exact same expression Seongwu sees him have on the ice, but has only rarely seen him have in person over the course of the week. “If you didn’t have the finals tomorrow, I’d shove _all_ the cold pizza down your throat.”

Seongwu sticks his tongue out. “I bet that’s not the only thing you’d like to shove down there.”

Minhyun narrows his eyes, and shuffles over to the very edge of the sofa. “You’re gross.”

“And you would know,” Seongwu responds, giving him an aggravating wink. “From all the interviews you’ve watched of me.”

Their relationship had quickly descended from mutual awe and respect, to hourly bickering. It didn’t take long for Seongwu to realise that figure skaters treat the ice in a very different manner than curling players do.

Seongwu always feels at ease with Minhyun, nevertheless, even with his constant nagging to keep watching curling videos to come up with more strategies, and forced late night gym sessions to keep his physical strength and stamina up. Figure skaters are definitely used to enduring constant training to perfect their moves. Seongwu’s just used to showing up to curling practice every Thursday night after his university acting classes.

But Seongwu goes along with it, because he knows that unlike curling, a figure skating career has an expiry date. So on the day of the curling gold medal match, Seongwu makes Minhyun promise to attend the practice session for the figure skating Exhibition Gala, instead of coming to the arena and cheering him on.

Minhyun shows up anyway, right at the conclusion, when Team Sweden manages to knock Team Korea’s stone out of the house in the last end, taking the victory, and making Seongwu an Olympic silver medallist.

“We’re silver buddies now!” Seongwu yells, running to give Minhyun a hug when he comes down from the bleachers with flowers. He swears he hears people clapping, but he’s unsure though, because he hasn’t been keeping up to date with the viral friendship between curling captain Ong Seongwu, and figure skating prince Hwang Minhyun.

But Seongwu is just purely elated, because coming into his first Winter Olympics, he’d never imagined leaving with a medal. And a silver, at that.

 

 

It’s after the Exhibition Gala the next day, where Minhyun had surprised the world with a passion-filled routine to The Greatest Showman’s _This is Me_ , that Seongwu begins to question the exact nature of their relationship.

They’d been at the after party, after both the Exhibition Gala and the closing ceremony had concluded, when Minhyun trudged out, stumbling, onto the fresh snow, with Seongwu trying to drag him back inside.

One of the first things Minhyun had told Seongwu when they started eating late-night snacks alongside the reruns of the curling matches, was that he didn’t drink alcohol. He just hated the taste, he said, to which Seongwu accidentally-on-purpose called him a baby, and Minhyun took mock offence.

But here’s Minhyun, soju bottle still in hand, face bright red, Seongwu desperating clawing at the man who’s twirling around way too fast on one foot.

“Minhyun. Please. You’re not in the ice rink. The Winter Olympics are over. Please stop turning around.”

“I’ve trained for years to do this one move, Seongwu, you can NEVER stop me!”

Seongwu makes one, last, daring attempt to grab the bottle, but only ends up falling face-first onto the freezing snow.

Minhyun bursts out laughing.

“That’s EXACTLY what I like about you, Ong Seongwu. You’re so funny.”

Seongwu hears a _thump_ noise beside him, and then a sudden exhale of hot breath against his ear. “You do everything with such… _vigour._ ”

Blood rushes down below, and he doesn’t know whether he shudders because of the cold, or because of how suggestive the word sounds on the other’s tongue.

He pushes himself up with two gloved palms, wiping the snow away from his face with the back of his hands, and looks over at Minhyun who’s staring up at him.

“You’re my ideal face, Ong Seongwu. And my ideal type. Plus, I like _you_.”

Minhyun hiccups, and then falls asleep, the drunken words lingering in Seongwu’s ears.

 

 

They travel back to Seoul the next day.

Minhyun goes straight back into training, for a transnational competition being held the next month. At first they’d called each other every night, Minhyun reminding Seongwu to do his nightly stretches, and Seongwu telling him all about the entertaining things he did with Jaehwan and Daniel at university during the day.

But nightly calls had become nightly texts, and soon Minhyun’s late night practice sessions would run too long for Seongwu to stay up and continue their conversations.

A month quickly passes, and the 2018 World Figure Skating Championships begin.

Milan is a bit warmer than Pyeongchang.

“So you’re saying that friends travel halfway around the globe for each other.”

Seongwu turns to give Jaehwan a _look_ , and continues apologising as he passes by people’s knees in the bleachers.

When they finally settle down, Seongwu reaches into his bag to pull out the signs he’d made the night earlier. “You and Daniel are my friends, and _you’ve_ travelled to Italy for me.”

“Hey, I’m only here for the free flight and the free pasta,” Daniel grins from his other side.

Seongwu sighs. “Okay, whatever.”

Because Minhyun is an Olympic silver medal winner, his routine is put at the very end of the schedule. Seongwu bounces his knee in anticipation. The other figure skaters are great too, but he can’t help but compare them to how Minhyun had moved on the ice. He recalls the many times he rewatched Minhyun’s Olympic routines on YouTube, as well as the day when he first saw them in person while hiding in the bleachers. It’s longing, he realises, which stirs somewhere deep inside his chest. 

After a few hours have passed, Minhyun finally appears, and the first thing Seongwu notices is that his hair is now black.

As the other glides onto the ice in preparation for his program, Seongwu nervously shakes Daniel awake, so hard, that the other automatically stands up and shouts, “HWANG MINHYUN! FIGHTING!”

Seongwu buries his face in his hands.

When he looks up, Minhyun is facing him, smiling that familiar crescent-eyed smile, the one that he had first seen from far away, exactly like this. But since then he’d seen it so many more times, at a lot more closer distance than now, and he terribly misses it.

But in front of Minhyun, Seongwu only chuckles at the familiarity, and then elbows Daniel, then Jaehwan, and together, all three put up their signs, one sign with each letter of Minhyun’s name.

HYUN MIN HWANG

 

 

They enter into the warmth of a little cafe off a cobblestone path, tucked in between rusticated residences, after Seongwu bribes Jaehwan and Daniel with money to eat pasta elsewhere.

It feels like the air between them is a lot more awkward than before, a month of not seeing each other in person making Seongwu feel very aware of every motion Minhyun makes. It’s strange, because his chest aches, as if just being with him is not enough. Like there’s something else missing.

“No coffee for you?” Seongwu questions, as Minhyun comes back to the table with an Americano, and a juice. “Didn’t you drink soju at the afterparty last time because you didn’t want me to be alone? Did one month really change our friendship that much since then?”

Minhyun only smiles, and shakes his head.  

Seongwu gazes at the angles of Minhyun’s face, committing each line to memory. The other looks wistfully at something out the window, hand partly unfurled underneath his chin. Even though Minhyun’s here right now, he can’t help but think that the next time he’ll see him like this might be in a few weeks, or even a few months. Exactly like the taste of grapefruit juice which Seongwu steals a sip of, there’s something bittersweet about sitting opposite him like this.

“Your expression,” Seongwu says, breaking the silence, along with the clinking sound of his teaspoon as he stirs his Americano. “During your routine, when you were on the ice, it was still the same as before.”

Minhyun turns back to meet his gaze, and the sudden eye contact startles Seongwu, causing him to look bashfully down at his cup. Minhyun exhales. “I never told you why I do that. I should’ve, since your impersonation of that expression was why I noticed you in the first place.”

They both take a sip of their respective drinks.

Seongwu slowly looks back up, at Minhyun, who’s gone back to staring out the window. After a while, the other continues to speak.

“I’ve realised, that I wholeheartedly spend time on the things I love, so much so, that in trying to keep them, I appear cold, or distant.” Minhyun sighs. “That doesn’t change how much I love those things, though.”

Seongwu’s breath catches, recalling the inebriated confession from a month ago. “Are we still talking about figure skating?”

Minhyun gnaws on his bottom lip. “Seongwu, you and I are different. You’re… dynamic. You have something natural, that I may not ever be able to achieve, even after months of training. And I’m always training.” Minhyun pauses, his hands attempting, but failing, to ball into fists in front of him. “Thank you, Seongwu, for being a spark of light in my life. And I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, that I’m not able to be the same in yours.”

The drag in Seongwu’s chest suddenly moves across, and down his arm, to his fingertips. He looks down at Minhyun’s hands, and how they’re trembling. And then back up at his face, where it’s obvious that he’s trying so hard to keep composed. Before he knows it, he finds his own hand move across the table, covering the other’s, and giving it a squeeze. “You’re wrong, Minhyun. What you call dynamism, this energy- it comes from you.”

Their eyes meet again, and this time, no gaze is broken.

 

They kiss in the back of the taxi, on the way to Seongwu’s hotel.

His fingers stretch out to meet Minhyun’s first.

Seongwu looks at him, at the beauty of his being, then down to his mouth. And when Minhyun nods, he reaches over, cups his cheek, nips at his bottom lip, before descending into something warmer.

For the rest of his time in Milan, they spend every second that Minhyun’s not training, together.

Between pizza and avoiding Jaehwan and Daniel, they sneak kisses in the crevices of Gothic cathedrals, and then makeout under the snow, on the side of deserted footbridges that look out over the river, desperately trying not to fall in.

Like Olympics week, Milan passes by as if it were a dream, except this time Minhyun leaves with the gold. And when Seongwu comes back to Seoul, Minhyun is now always there, put on his first, proper, off-season break.

Minhyun comes to every one of Seongwu’s Thursday night curling practices.

Seongwu accompanies Minhyun to every nightly gym session, because _technically, a break isn’t ever a break._

He doesn’t know at what point in time he stops worrying about whether what he has with Minhyun will last, and starts worrying about what Minhyun will have for breakfast in the morning.

 

_Can’t you stay a little longer? Just so we can eat cereal together? What’s an hour, Minhyun, you were here all night._

_Seongwu, I know you didn’t do any grocery shopping. All you have in your fridge is leftover pizza. Is that seriously your only way of making me stay all the time?_

_But it works, doesn’t it?_

_...it does._

 

**Author's Note:**

> this fic has been in the works for months, but i played with how i wanted things right until the very end, so the actual fic is very short.. when it might’ve been written as a long one too, if i had decisiveness and time :]
> 
> but thankyou so much to the mods of ongniverse for being so endlessly patient, with my multiple drafts that were all different, and then for agreeing to all my extension requests, ily! 
> 
> and thankyou to my prompter, for the really cute and sweet prompt. this was afhshsh too short, but i hope you like it anyway :) 
> 
> and thanks to YOU, who’s read this, you are the best <3, and i hope you’ve enjoyed it!


End file.
